


Thank god

by LightCueGo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Confessions, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, pagan god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 17:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3618531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightCueGo/pseuds/LightCueGo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is in trouble, "holy crap, I'm gonna die" trouble, and in his last goodbyes finds himself praying to Castiel, who just might answer them in a way Dean never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank god

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to everyone who was magical enough to follow me and my stories at some point. I know I was pretty gung-ho and snappy about posting updates a few months ago, and I hinted at the possibility of expanding the “Whiskey, Nerves, and Unnaturally Green Eyes” story, but for a few reasons I haven’t been writing much in the past couple months. I’ve been dealing with some pretty severe health issues, which I hope are improving, but hey, you just have to keep on truckin’, right? Aside from that, I’ve also had a kind of horrible and very hectic time at school, with crazy professors and a less than stellar roommate, alongside the overwhelming buttload of work that colleges insist is mandatory for a decent education. 
> 
> So basically what I’m trying to say is, I’ve been offline for a while dealing with several personal things, and I’d forgotten how much it helps me to write. I thought I needed the break to focus on myself and try to work through some things, but I forgot how cathartic writing and interacting with other writers and readers can be. So, hopefully, I’ll be writing more regularly again, and will hopefully have new material for all of you wonderful fanfic lovers. My next goal is to write another installment for the Whiskey and Nerves ‘verse. I decided on a stand-alone project for my reentry to the wonderful world of fanfic. 
> 
> So with that, please enjoy all that I have to give you and please excuse my first journey into smutland if you did not find it enjoyable. :):):):):)
> 
> Un-beta’d, so you can blame all typos, grammatical mistakes, and misspellings on yours truly.

Dean isn’t 100% certain how he got here, but he definitely isn’t complaining. He rakes his fingers once again through the unfathomably soft, jet-black hair that his hands are buried in. 

Somehow, nearly being killed by some cookie-cutter pagan god and then being scolded for carelessness by Castiel for approximately seven hundred years led to this. But Dean doesn’t even know what this is. His hands are pulling the silken hair wrapped around his fingers, his lips are moving roughly with Cas’s, and his dick is quite possibly harder than it ever has been before. And he is so okay with all of that.

Dean was slumped against a tree frantically glancing around looking for any semblance of a weapon. The god had easily flicked the spruce stake out of Dean’s hand and into the nearest grove of bushes just moments before. Sammy, delicate flower that he is, was knocked out by a swift punch to the head within the first three minutes of the fight. Dean’s head was throbbing, his vision swimming, and there was literally nothing in his sight that could inflict any harm on a kitten, much less a god. As the god loomed over him and extended her perfectly manicured, scarily red nails toward his face, he closed his eyes, braced himself, and said his last goodbyes.

Bye, Sammy. Maybe the evil bitch will just leave you be after she kills me. Bye, Charlie. I’m sorry we ever got you into the game in the first place, even if it did end up being the best game you ever played. Bye, Cas. Maybe you can actually hear my goodbyes. Maybe you’ll actually know I said them. I’m sorry I never said the things I wanted to say. Showed you how I feel. 

Dean always thought that when he finally died, he’d go out thinking of nothing but Sammy, everything they’ve been through together, what Sammy would do without Dean, how he would survive. Strangely enough, Dean said his goodbye to Sam, and that was that; he knew Sammy would be okay. But what did stay in Dean’s mind as he felt the god’s long nails gently scratch down the side of his face were two vibrant, blue eyes. Dean almost scoffed to himself, laughing over the fact that now was when he finally decided to let himself think purely and honestly of Castiel.

Dean forced his eyes open, determined to glare into his killer’s eyes as the light of life left his own. She brought one hand high above her head, her face contorting into a grimace of fury. But her hand did not come sweeping back down to Dean; rather, it fell limply to her side as her eyes flew wide in shock, and a long, wooden stake blossomed out the front of her chest. Dean stared in surprise as the god fell to her knees, revealing an utterly terrifying angel full of heavenly wrath behind her, the end of the stake still in his hand.

“You don’t die today, Dean Winchester,” Cas growled, anger seeping out of every syllable to spoke. “Not if I can help it.”

The god coughed once, twice, then she slumped over onto her side as her once shimmering eyes stared lifelessly up at Dean.

Castiel looked at a speechless Dean briefly before walking briskly to wear Sam lay sprawled on the ground. Quickly assessing his wounds, Cas pressed two fingers to his forehead. The scrapes on Sam’s hands disappeared, the gash along his forehead sealed itself shut, and Sam shot off the ground with a very audible gasp.

“You will be fine, Sam. Your wounds are healed; the god is dead. Take the Impala back to your hotel.”

Sam took the car keys from Cas in a daze, his confusion clear as he scrambled to his feet and toward the trail that had led them into the forest only a half hour before. He glanced back to Dean.

“Uhm, you coming?” Sam asked.

“I will bring Dean back shortly,” Castiel replied curtly.

Sam glanced worriedly between the two, but said nothing, opting instead to just listen to Castiel’s instructions and quickly walk out of sight. 

“Uh, Cas. Not that I don’t appreciate the offer for a ride back, but, uh, I should really check on Sammy. Make sure he’s okay. Drive the car back.”

Castiel said nothing, only stared in the direction that Sam had sauntered off in for a few more silent moments. But then he did break the silence. And Dean sat stunned against his tree, wishing that he hadn’t

“Dean Winchester,” Castiel began quietly, voice nearly quivering in unadulterated anger, “you complete, mindless, careless fool.” Castiel turned to face Dean. You could have gotten yourself killed. You very nearly did.”

Dean stared in shock at Cas. It had been a long time since he’d gotten a safety lecture, and even longer since he’d seen Cas this angry. Dean recalled the time he’d almost said yes to Michael and silently prayed that he wasn't about to get another beating. He cautiously used the tree behind him to slowly rise to his feet, not saying a word to the furious angel.

“Did you think that I don’t know what you’re doing? You barreled after this god, barely bothering to find out who she even is, what her powers are, how you could kill her. You can lie to your brother, but you cannot lie to me. You didn’t even care to check that a spruce stake would do the job. You just hoped that it would based on your past experience with gods! How foolish could you be, you son of a bitch?”

Dean stared on; Castiel rarely cursed, and when he did, things were definitely not good.

Castiel continued, yelling now, “You have been running on countless suicide missions, throwing yourself into every case as haphazardly as possibly, just waiting to be killed! Ever since you were changed back from a demon, forced to live with the Mark of Cain, you haven’t cared a single bit whether you lived or died.”

Castiel stalked toward Dean, murder in his eyes, and Dean pressed himself as close as possible to the trunk of the tree behind him as Castiel stepped into Dean’s personal space.

“You haven’t bothered to think for a second of Sam, of how he would feel if you died.” Castiel wrapped his hands in the collar of Dean’s jacket and shoved him roughly up the tree. “Of how I would feel.”

Dean’s mind raced a mile a minute. His heart pounded inside his ribcage and his breath raggedly punched its way out of his chest. Even if he wanted to, Dean could absolutely no longer pretend that he felt any way other than how he felt for Cas. Dean’s “final moments” tonight proved that. The bright blue eyes that stayed seared into Dean’s brain even as he stared down the hands of death in front of him told Dean what he was incapable of telling Cas: Dean was absolutely, positively, 100% in love with Castiel, his angel.

Dean felt his heart race even harder, could almost feel his pupils growing wider as Dean felt Cas’s body pressed against his. His eyes roved over Castiel’s face, still contorted into fury, down to his lips, across his cheekbones, up to his eyes. He finally managed to open his mouth for the first time since Cas began his tirade.

Dean swallowed and stared intensely into Cas’s eyes, barely whispering as he said,” How would you feel?”

Cas’s eyes lost some of their righteous anger, softened as he stared back at Dean. “I heard your prayer, Dean. How do you feel?”

Dean had no idea how to answer that. He could answer with the obvious: I feel horrible, I’m in terrible pain, I was just attacked by a witch. He could answer with a lie: I feel fine. Great. Just need a shower and a beer. Or he could answer with the truth.

Dean slowly lifted his hand and placed it gently on Cas’s cheek. Cas’s eyes widened slightly with a hint of surprise. “I feel…right.”

And with that Dean finally did what he’d been forcing out of his head for years, what he never thought he’d actually get to do. He leaned slowly forward, never looking away from Cas’s captivating eyes, and he kissed his angel. He barely brushed his pink lips across Cas’s chapped ones, gasping from the thrill of the slight contact. Dean stayed there, barely a hair’s breadth between Castiel’s lips and his own, and he stared into Castiel’s eyes. He waited. 

And that singular touch of Dean’s was all it took. Castiel growled and surged forward, gluing his lips to Dean’s mouth and his hands to Dean’s back. Dean brought his other hand to Cas’s face, cupping each cheek in his palms. Dean didn’t know if it was Cas’s anger from the night, or his impatience after years of waiting for this, but Castiel kissed with a fury equal to that which he had shown the god. His lips moved roughly, with little finesse over Dean’s, and his hands clawed fiercely into Dean’s jacket as he somehow managed to push Dean even farther back against the tree. 

Dean gave as good as he got and moved his hands up to his angel’s hair as he explored the contours of Cas’s mouth with his own tongue. Dean moaned, almost whined, as he let Cas suck on his tongue and nibble on his lower lip. 

After what was in Dean’s opinion not nearly long enough, Cas slowed the kiss to a gentle brush of lips, and pulled back just enough to look into Dean’s eyes again. Dean stared back with the wonder and awe he always felt for Castiel, and couldn’t help the smallest of smiles from playing across his lips.

“I feel right,” he murmured again. “I feel right.”

Castiel shook his head in wonder and smiled back at Dean. “I love you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean felt a moment of panic sweep across him, felt his heart thud in his chest, felt a thousand things float through his mind. He felt the constant, almost obsessive love he’d had for his mother his entire life, the love that dragged him across the country countless times searching for her killer. He felt the painful half-love, half-hate for his father that kept him tied to a leash held in his father’s hand, a leash that kept Dean chained for years after John’s death. He felt the unconditional love for his brother, for his Sammy, that gave Dean the strength to do things he never thought possible: bring his baby brother back from the dead, claw his way through hell, through purgatory and back, forgive Sammy and himself for countless wrongs they’d both committed. He felt his love for Bobby, his surrogate father, for Jo and Ellen, the extended family he’d never had, and for Charlie, the bratty little sister he’d always wanted but had never been granted. Then, finally, he felt his love for Cas. His pure, barely comprehensible love for Cas. It was so different than his love for Mary, his love for John, for Sammy, Bobby, anyone else in his life. It was simple and it was good and it was there. It was there, and Dean wouldn’t deny it anymore.

And with that thought, Dean’s heart slowed, his lips stretched back into their tender smile, and the deepest wave of calm Dean had ever felt swept through his soul.

“I love you too, Cas,” Dean whispered, as he lowered his lips once again to his angel’s mouth.

******************  
Dean drags fingers back down through Cas’s locks as the angel moves on top of him, thanking God and every higher power out there that angels have teleportation powers. It saved an agonizing forty-five minute drive from the middle of the woods to Dean’s motel. Instead of enduring the torture, Cas hadn’t even bothered to break his and Dean’s kiss as he transported them to the interior of the Winchesters’ room. As soon as Dean realized that they were no longer in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, he began inching backward towards his bed, pulling Cas along with him and pushing his well-worn trench coat toward the floor.

Dean, now completely undressed, pulls Cas’s unbuttoned oxford, the last of his clothes, off his arms and drags his hands down Castiel’s beautifully sculpted chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dean whispers to Castiel, staring up into his eyes.

Castiel just smiles and returns his mouth to Dean’s, kissing with a newfound passion, an unrestrained fervor. Dean smiles into the kiss and with a sweep of his legs and a push of his arms, he trades his and Cas’s positions and pins Cas to the bed. Dean sweeps his tongue through Cas’s mouth, trails his lips down Cas’s throat to his chest, and wonders why in the world this waited this long to do this. Dean takes one of Cas’s nipples between his teeth, nibbling it gently before smoothing it over with his tongue. Cas gasps above him and Dean feels two hands pull roughly at his hair. 

Dean chuckles lightly and keeps heading south. He peppers kisses across Cas’s stomach, takes time to bite at his truly sinful hipbones, then lowers his head to nip playfully at Cas’s thighs.

“Dean…” Cas half-sighs, half-moans. “Please.”

And with that, Dean grins and finally moves his mouth to Cas’s cock, a truly magnificent work of art, if Dean says so himself. Dean licks a dirty, wet stripe up the underside of Cas’s dick before closing his lips around the head and sucking lightly. Castiel lets out a truly filthy moan before dissolving into a string of quiet whimpers, his hips twitching beneath Dean’s hands. Dean takes mercy on the poor soul, and slowly, tortuously, sinks down on Cas until the head of his cock hits the back of Dean’s throat. Dean swallows around Cas, feels the length of Cas’s dick twitch in his mouth, and then pulls up to the head only to sink back down again. Dean sets a moderate rhythm, and bobs his head, dragging his tongue along the length of Cas’s dick and sweeping it under the ridge of his head with every upstroke. Cas comes unglued and begins babbling.

“Dean, god yes, yes, like that, don’t stop, that’s so good,” Cas rumbles out a litany of praise. 

Dean continues to bob his head, his eyes watering and his jaws straining around Cas’s girth. Dean carries on for a few more minutes, loving every inch of Cas on his tongue, until Cas grabs Dean by the hair and pulls him back up to his mouth. Cas darts his tongue into Dean’s mouth, tasting himself in every corner of the hunter’s mouth, moaning with abandon as he finally gets to take what he’s wanted from Dean for so long. Dean runs his hands up Castiel’s sides and pulls back from his mouth, panting in absolute breathlessness. Dean braces his hands on either side of Cas’s face and looks into his eyes, seeing awe and joy and love, and sending back all that has in return. Dean doesn’t look away as he murmurs, “Cas, I want you to fuck me. I want you to be inside me.”

Castiel stares at Dean for a moment longer before he growls and flips them over again, slamming Dean into the mattress with a force that both startles Dean and turns him on even more than he was just moments before. He didn’t even realize that was possible. 

Cas lowers his mouth back to Dean’s in an absolutely filthy kiss, and murmurs between sweeps of his tongue and rolls of his hips, “Do you have lubricant?”

Dean halfway giggles at Cas’s use of the full word, but manages to mumble “duffle,” then watches as Cas’s leans over the bed to reach for his bag. Dean can’t help but stretch over and place a simple, sweet kiss on Cas’s shoulder blade. Cas moves back over Dean, bottle of lube in hand, with a gentle smile on his lips and a look so tender in his eyes than Dean has to stifle a gasp. He has never seen anyone look at him so wonderingly, so happily, so full of love, that Dean forgets for the first time in months the worries of his life: he forgets the Mark, forgets Cas’s fading grace, forgets the crushing guilt over beating Charlie. He just feels. And what he feels is pure love and happiness, contentment.

Dean snaps back to reality as Cas snaps the lube open as pours a generous amount onto his fingers. Dean spreads his legs wider without even noticing, allowing Cas to sink deeper between them as this hand trails down Dean’s cock, over his balls, and behind his sack toward his pink, virgin hole. Dean has fingered himself before in a few marathon masturbation sessions, but he’s never had more than his own three fingers inside him before, and Cas is definitely more than three fingers.

Castiel gently rubs his slick finger against Dean’s hot hole before slipping in the first finger, slowly pushing it down to the first knuckle, then on to the second when Dean shows little resistance. He pumps it in and out, almost lazily as he moves his mouth back to Dean’s, kissing him a little too chastely considering that his hand is literally inside Dean’s ass.

But Dean returns Cas’s sweet, languid kisses, brushing their lips together again and again as Cas moves a second finger into Dean’s body. Dean moans lightly into Cas’s mouth and lifts his hips off the bed, searching for more, searching for Cas. Cas loses whatever self-control he had, and sweeps his tongue into Dean’s mouth, devouring him while he slips a third finger into Dean’s willing body. Cas pumps his fingers in and out, scissoring and stretching, opening Dean up for him.

Dean returns Cas’s kisses with a fervor he wasn’t even aware he had in him, losing more and more of his sanity the longer that Cas slips his fingers in and out of Dean’s hole. Dean moans loudly and raggedly, and pushes his hips back on to Cas’s fingers, searching for more force than Cas is giving him.

Cas chuckles lightly. “Eager?” Cas asks?

“Ready,” Dean somehow gasps as Cas crooks his fingers just right and presses into Dean’s prostate.

Dean’s already undulating hips buck off the bed and into Cas’s own and Cas laughs once again. Dean’s already bared his heart and soul to Cas tonight; he is absolutely not too proud to beg right now.

“Please Cas, please, just do it, fuck me, please,” Dean babbles as Cas moves his fingers rhythmically. “Please, I need you, come on.”

Cas shuts Dean up with more filthy kisses and Dean bemoans the loss of Cas’s fingers even though he knows it signals better things to come. Cas fumbles for the lube that he discarded somewhere on the bed, silently cursing that he didn’t place it neatly beside them, or even fucking tie it to his wrist so he wouldn’t lose it. He finally closes his fingers around the small bottle and snaps the cap open with his thumb. He pulls away from Dean onto his knees, ignoring for the moment the vehement protests, and pours a decent amount of lube directly onto his penis. Dean doesn’t even let Castiel move his hand toward his dick before his own is wrapped around it, pumping slowly up and down to spread the lube. Castiel throws his head back and heaves out a long, low moan, reveling in the sensation of Dean’s hands on his skin.

Castiel gets impatient and bats Dean’s hand away, lowering himself back between Dean’s legs. He grabs them both at the knee and pulls them over his shoulders, pushing back down over Dean so that his knees are almost touching his own chest. Castiel presses his mouth back to Dean’s in an unmoving kiss as he situates himself over Dean, pressing the head of his cock to Dean’s wet hole.

Cas whispers into Dean’s mouth, “Are you ready?”

Dean cups Cas’s face between his hands, kisses him quickly, and whispers back, “Yes. Finally, I am.”

“I love you,” Cas replies as he gently pushes into Dean, barely breaching his hole with the head of his cock. 

Dean gasps at the intrusion, eyes watering at the burning stretch. Cas pushes in a little deeper, then pulls back a bit before plunging in a little more. Dean’s jaw tenses at the pain of the intrusion, but it’s different than he’d thought it would be. It’s not horrible, definitely not unbearable, but it does hurt with a dull burn that Dean knows he will still feel in the morning. And Dean actually smiles at that, because he can not wait to walk around the next day feeling his angel still inside of him, constantly reminded that he’s allowed this now, he’s allowed to love Castiel and not feel guilty for it. 

Dean moans as Cas pushes all the way in and leaves his hips flush against Dean’s ass. He waits, motionless, for to Dean to adjust, for him to stretch enough that he no longer feels the burn, only the pleasure of being one with Castiel. After a few seconds, Dean finds Cas’s eyes and nods once, signaling to Cas to get the fuck on with it already. 

Cas pulls back again, almost all the way out, and pushes gently back in, setting a slow, tender pace that Dean knows is full of all the love Castiel can manage to give. Dean revels in the affection, basks in the admiration that he can almost feel rolling off of Cas in waves. He rolls his hips along with Cas’s, loving each and every thrust of Cas’s cock into his body. 

But soon, Dean becomes lost in the sensation, lost in the pleasure of Castiel’s perfect body, and every nerve in his body screams for more: more pleasure, more feeling, more Cas.

“Cas,” Dean gasps. “God yes, more, harder, harder please, harder. Fuck me, Cas.”

Castiel’s shoulder’s flex as he presses his hands harder into the mattress on either side of Dean, and he literally growls as he pulls out of Dean and snaps back in with a force that Dean did not foresee. A startlingly loud moan rips out of Dean, and he nearly wails as Cas repeats his motion again and again at a rapid pace. 

“Yes, ohhhh God. Cas. Cas!” Dean isn’t sure how he’s still speaking, and he tries to send the message to his mouth to just shut up already, because he’s clearly making zero sensible statements. He manages one last “harder!” before he cuts himself off with a long, low moan.

Cas obliges, and manages to speed up his thrusts, shoving Dean up the bed with every snap of his hips. Castiel can feel the burning heat building up in his lower abdomen, consuming the base of his spine. His orgasm is so close he thinks he can almost actually taste it and hear it and smell it. He doesn’t know if orgasms can be experienced with any of the senses other than feeling, but if they can, by God, he bets Dean can give him one good enough for that to happen. Dean could probably give him an orgasm good enough to kill him just by looking at him the right way. 

Cas slips a hand between his and Dean’s body and curls his fingers around Dean’s heavy cock, dripping with precome. Dean moans even louder as Cas’s hand loosely jerks him with the lubricant of his own cum. Dean feels like his entire body is on fire, he’s burning up in bed with his angel, and he knows that he’s going to come at any moment. 

And sure enough, with one, two, three more pumps of Cas’s wrist, Dean is coming and arching his back off the bed, clawing his finger nails into Cas’s shoulder, absently thinking that he’s probably leaving very visible marks in their wake. Dean’s body convulses as cum spurts out of his sensitive dick, still wrapped in Cas’s hand, and he shudders as he experiences what is quite possibly the most satisfying orgasm of his life. 

Castiel sees stars as Dean clenches around him, and then he’s coming without so much as one more thrust. Cas continues to roll slowly against Dean, his hips once again flush to Dean’s ass, as his body spasms with his orgasm. Dean feels Cas fill him up with his come, revels in the knowing that he is marked inside and out by Cas, and shudders with the last throes of his orgasm. Cas finally stills and pants into Dean’s mouth, not moving other than to gently reach up and brush Dean’s hair off his forehead.

Dean reaches up and gently grabs Castiel’s face, guiding it to his own for a languid kiss. Dean channels every ounce of love he’s capable of out of his body and into Cas’s own as Cas gently slips out of Dean. Castiel pulls away and rolls onto his side beside Dean. Dean turns as well, tangling his legs with Cas’s and running a hand through Cas’s hair before draping it across his shoulder. Dean traces light circles with his fingers down Castiel’s back.

Dean cannot imagine how lucky he had to be to get Castiel in his life in any way, much less in this capacity. After years of denying his feelings for Cas, months of thinking he would never get the privilege of loving him, weeks of agonizing over the angel, Dean is content. He is happy. He is in love. And he is unbelievably thankful that an asshole pagan god almost killed him tonight so that he finally prayed honestly to his angel and bared his heart.

Dean skirts his fingers back up to Castiel’s head and buries them once again into his silky, sex-crazed hair. He softly brushes his lips against Cas’s, then whispers almost inaudibly, directly into Cas’s mouth, with all the sincerity that he can muster.

“I love you, angel.”

****************

Sam finally pulls up to the hotel, ready for a hot shower and a long sleep, and steps out of the Impala. He wonders when Dean will be back; by the looks of it, Castiel had a lot of yelling to do back in the woods. 

Sam smirks a little at the thought of Dean being scolded as he strolls to the hotel room. "Serves him right for barreling into the woods after that God," Sam mutters to himself. 

Sam pulls his room key from his pocket as he reaches his room and starts to slip the key into the lock. 

"God, Cas, harder, fuck," Sam hears Dean's voice practically scream as he places his hand onto the door knob. 

Sam's eyes widen, and he quickly turns around, loudly saying, "NOPE, nope, absolutely not, oh my GOD!"

But as Sam walks back to the Impala to spend approximately twelve hours driving to clear his brain, he shakes his head, laughing, and thinks, "about damn time."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you come back for more! Please leave any comments, suggestions, and critiques in the in comments. I'd love your feedback!


End file.
